


Your Good Side

by madbutterfly



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly/pseuds/madbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Anders can only take so much, but Mitchell is pretty good at cheering him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Good Side

Mitchell could tell something was wrong as soon as he walked in the door, the atmosphere in his and Anders’ flat tense and unhappy.

Following the negative vibes into the living room, his eyes fell upon Anders, who was lying facedown on the sofa. He didn’t react to Mitchell’s entry.

Mitchell frowned, leaning over the back of the sofa and giving Anders a light shake on the shoulder. “What’s your problem?”

Anders made a grouchy noise into the couch cushions, not moving.

Mitchell frowned harder, then moved around to the front of the sofa. “Move or I’ll sit on you,” he warned, hoping it would get Anders to at least sit up. It didn’t, but he did draw his legs up to his body so Mitchell could sit down. Mitchell parked himself in the space that had been freed up, watching Anders carefully.

This was unusual. It was far from the first time he’d encountered Anders in a bad mood, but usually he just got snappy, maybe a bit distant or argumentative or went on a long rant about what had pissed him off, he didn’t just curl up on the sofa and refuse to communicate at all. Part of Mitchell was tempted to try to annoy Anders into sitting up and saying something, but he had a feeling that that wouldn’t help.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked nonchalantly. There was silence for a few moments, and Mitchell let it stretch on. The atmosphere had changed slightly, like Anders was thinking.

Eventually, Anders gave an almighty sigh and pushed himself into a sitting position. He was scowling.

“You know what? It doesn’t fucking matter  _what_  I do now, nothing’s ever good enough,” he growled.

“Good enough?” Mitchell asked, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“My brothers, that’s what. I’m not claiming that I’m a saint or anything. What I  _am_  claiming is that I’m not actually just a shithead with no redeeming qualities. Right? I mean, I’m not… terrible.”

“Of course you’re not terrible,” Mitchell replied, eyebrows raising. “Come on, you think I’d have any desire to live with a shithead with no redeeming qualities? Nah. Did they say that’s what you are?”

Anders let out a huff through his nose and folded his arms. “No, but that’s because they don’t need to. At this point… I don’t know. I guess it’s too late to fix everything I fucked up and now… it doesn’t matter what I do, how I help… it doesn’t matter. They see me in this particular way and they don’t want to admit that I’m any good at all.” He looked up at Mitchell. “I’m sick of it, that’s all. Why should I even bother seeing them, let alone help them, when they can’t find one good thing to say about me?”

Mitchell closed his eyes and breathed out slowly through his nose. Some part of him wanted to go and rip some Johnson throats out, but nothing good would come of that. He had to focus on Anders.

“Mitch, I really hope you’re not thinking violent thoughts right now,” said Anders warningly, having noticed Mitchell’s expression and reading it in an instant.

Mitchell opened his eyes again and gave a tiny smile. “I might have been, but don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

He shifted slightly closer to Anders and put his hand on the sofa next to Anders’ leg. After a few moments Anders realised that it was an invitation and moved to place his hand over the top of Mitchell’s.

“Maybe if they’ll only see your bad side, I’ll pick up the slack and only see your good side,” he said quietly. There was a hint of a smile in his voice, but he wasn’t really joking. “It’s a miracle, really. Look at you! Perfection.”

Anders laughed quietly. “That doesn’t sound very healthy.”

“Since when has  _healthy_  been our number one priority?” Mitchell asked, turning his hand over and twining his fingers with Anders’. “But… okay, if you don’t want me to  _only_  see your good side, I suppose I’ll just keep doing what I’ve always been doing.”

“Which is?”

Mitchell squeezed his hand. His smile was almost shy now. “Loving every inch of you, including the flaws. I know you’re not perfect. So fucking what? Who is? I’m pretty much as far from perfect as it’s possible to be. But you’re still fucking amazing. Wouldn’t be without you.” He leaned to bump his shoulder against Anders’. “And your family are fucking idiots if they don’t appreciate you. But I hope you know that I always will.”

Anders grumbled something and shifted slightly in his seat, but he didn’t move away and he was smiling a little now. “You can be ridiculous sometimes,” he accused.

Mitchell moved his free hand up and placed it over his heart. “Ouch! And yet here I am, still stupidly in love with you. The things I have to put up with.”

Anders laughed and turned to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you. I never used to be all about this, y’know, love stuff. You’ve infected me!”

“If you’re expecting me to be even slightly apologetic about that, you’ve got another think coming!” Mitchell grinned, and he tackled Anders down into the couch, wrapping his arms around him on the way down.

Anders’ happy laughter filling the room was one of the most wonderful sounds Mitchell had ever heard.


End file.
